


The Plan

by KleineM



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KleineM/pseuds/KleineM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherrinford was the oldest Holmes child, and in such a family, getting attention wasn't always easy. That's why he came up with The Plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Plan

**Author's Note:**

> So basically this idea popped into my head after The Last Vow aired. There are NO spoilers for said episode in this piece.  
> The idea is that Sherrinford is about 2½ years older than Mycroft. The whole things is seen from his eyes, as in him narrating the story of his life. This is important since some events really don't end up happening the way he thinks they do, one in particular which will be a surprise for him later on. Keep this in mind if you get confused :)
> 
> And yes, I'm aware that in canon Sherlock Holmes, ACD never actually directly mentions any older brother.
> 
> Enjoy.

This is the story of Sherrinford James Robert Holmes.  
This is the story of how I died.

It started early, really. They should’ve known the day they found me holding a pillow over my little brother’s face. I was barely 3 years old at the time, so everyone shrugged it off as me being silly. Maybe I was being silly. Silly silly silly.  
They should’ve known when the neighbour said I’d killed her dog. Luckily an old lady down the street told my parents that her parrot had died because I stared at it, so that killed those rumours. Of course I was innocent. My parents didn’t worry.

I was a smart boy, I really was! It just didn’t show in my grades because school was boring. Every day the same books, the same teachers, the same faces. So static, so predictable. Boooooooring. Instead I made up stories in my head. I loved going to school because I knew I could spend hours just making things up. Yet school was boring, I hated it. I didn’t really make friends either, so I hated all my classmates.  
I was smart though! I could always tell when my peers were up to something, and I solved all the teacher’s math quizzes in no time. I just couldn’t write it down, my brain worked too fast for my hands to put it on paper.  
This, of course, was something my dear brother never failed to remind me of. Being 2 years younger than me, he always bragged about how smart he was and how I was stupid, and it just got worse when he started first grade. He didn’t have a hard time making friends at all, everyone liked him, so they all teased me. It should’ve been the other way around, I was older.  
Anyway, that’s how Mycroft became the family favourite. Every week when our homework had been graded, he had better scores than I did. I knew I had a couple of horrible years ahead of me with him always getting the attention. He didn’t really like being around people, but he did take every chance to brag. One day I was going to show him, I was sure of that. 

When I was 10 years old, my parents had another baby. Another boy. Little Sherlock got all the attention of course, everyone seemed to assume that I’d take care of myself and Mycroft. And I could, because I was smart enough!  
My brother wanted to show off though, so he mostly took care of himself, leaving me alone. Despite two parents and two brothers, I was always alone. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think my parents actually disliked me, they just didn’t understand me so they left me alone. Maybe they thought I’d grow out of it. Sorry about that.

That’s why I came up with The Plan. It was a brilliant plan, Mycroft would’ve been at least a little bit proud if he’d known. The perfect Plan. I should tell him the details about it, shouldn’t I.  
I’d made a trap. Everyone was going to realise how intelligent I was. Brilliant, don’t you think? Of course The Plan was brilliant.

You see, when I saw my baby brother hanging in the noose he’d been stupid enough to put himself in, I didn’t feel remorse, nor regret. The Plan had worked, I was indeed as brilliant as I had always thought. Surely my family would see that now? They’d have more time too.

I remember screaming. Sirens. An ambulance carrying Sherlock's tiny body away. Crying. People pulling at me, asking what I had done. Their yelling was annoying. Wasn’t it obvious. I’d made a trap and he fell in it.  
I had killed my baby brother.

~~~~~~

My parents came to visit every day in the beginning. I would ask them when we’d go home, and they would look sad and smile and say _”soon, just not yet”_.  
I trusted them.  
Mycroft came with them a few times. He didn’t look at me with the admiration I had expected, but instead there was fear and a bit of sadness in his eyes.  
The weeks turned to months which turned to years. They all stopped visiting after a while. It was okay though, I got used to it. I knew where I was and I knew the nurses and doctors, and I knew that I could leave at any point. Some of the people here were really intelligent like me. Others not so much.

A few days before I turned 16, I got a letter saying that my name had been changed due to a safety risk. I didn’t pay much attention to it, to me it didn’t make much difference what the world called me. I didn’t feel like a part of the family either way, so having my surname taken away didn’t matter much to me either.

One day, I grew tired of it. I wanted to see new things, new people. I started telling the doctors about my _regrets_ , about the _nightmares_ I had and about how much I wished I could’ve _known_ Sherlock. My baby brother who never even got to experience his first birthday.  
The faked sentiment disgusted me but it was something I had to do. At last, they considered me rehabilitated and let me out. 

Having spent all my life within closed walls made me feel a bit lost, and the best thing I could think of was trying to find my brother. I managed to find out that he worked for the government, of course he did, and I found the building where he worked. At the front desk I introduced myself as his brother, and was immediately led to his office. This was surprisingly easy! I soon heard footsteps outside, and into the office walked a man I barely recognised. So time had passed even in my absence, interesting. 

_”I assumed you would be turning up here, brother. How can I help you?”_

He didn’t look happy to see me, nor did he seem surprised. I guessed that he’d been warned about my release in case I would try to find him.

_”Are you up for lunch? Oh, how rude, I should introduce myself properly. James Moriarty. Did you miss me?”_


End file.
